Game of Power
by Zavijah
Summary: Slight AU Rufus is the new president with a dark past and an unhealthly obsession. He is determined to teach the world, and himself, a lesson about true power. Dark Rufuscentered fic. Possible RenoRufus
1. Prologue

**Game of Power**

_By: Zavijah_

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_" Men are only clever at shifting blame from their own shoulders to those of others."_

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Power.

Sometimes Rufus had to wonder if there really was such a thing that could be defined by that single word. Sure there was the Mako energy that was pumped from the ground—sucked from the earth by huge reactors, which lined the city like a protective barrier. Whether it was to keep the bad out, or to trap it within, Rufus had yet to decide. What he knew was the visible green energy was the very life of the planet and his city thrived off of its phantom taste. Midgar ate it up little by little because that energy was the _power_, and every man wanted more than his fair share. Their voracious appetites were never satisfied, so Rufus continued to feed them like the livestock they resembled. Filthy, foul-smelling herd of dolts, that's what they were to him when he looked down at the slums from his office window. Yes, the Mako was the real power, yet the people around him continued to think that _he_ had the power. So when they, the cattle, were not happily fed to their fulfillment, they complained to him.

But no matter what, they were never happy. If Rufus fed them anymore, then small groups such as Avalanche would rise up and say _he_ was the one killing the planet. Hypocrites. Couldn't they see that is was _these people_ that were slowly eating away the world—yet they blamed Rufus. It was those that rebelled against him that were the very ones that used the Mako energy to light their houses, run their TVs, cook their food, pump their water. They were all such selfish creatures; always wanting more but never responsible enough to admit the consequences of their desires. It was their bottomless needs that were at fault, not Rufus.

But no, the people blamed him. Rufus didn't see how he had any connection to the woes of the dying planet. He merely ran the family business like it had been done for years before his time. _He_ was not the one that had dreamt up the idea of taping into the lifestream as a source of energy, of power. It had been people like _them_ that had drawn up the blueprints, built the reactors and manned the valves.

And now, they were blowing them up.

Rufus stared blankly, uncaringly out of the large window of his new office. It had not even been a week since his father had died from a heart attack—something that didn't surprise the young man when the fatal moment had occurred in that very room. The late president had always been such a fat, stupid man in the cold eyes of his only son. Rufus didn't grieve, he had hated his father with an icy passion—but that was not the point that he wanted to make. As he thought before, it wasn't even a week since he took over the business and already he was forced to watch a mockery to his 'power'.

The edge of his city was burning. Dark gray clouds billowed up into the moonlit sky. Its source was one of the Mako reactors, tower number five to be exact—some rebellious group had decided that blowing up their way of life sent some kind of powerful message to Rufus. It didn't. He impassively watched the base of the tower that savagely burned in dark oranges, reds and wisps of yellows—but the colors were hard to pick out through the thick black smoke that coated over the rest of the slums like a plague.

"Silly. Little. Fools." Rufus slowly pronounced each word so that every one was calm, yet held his strong distaste for the responsible party.

Tomorrow a new flood of complaints would come pouring in as soon as ShinRa Headquarters opened their doors to the public. They would emerge from that black sea of their own creation, they'd crawl from the ashes charred and blue, and they would blame him. Bloodied hands would point at him, burnt lungs would scream for his death to replace the loved ones they had lost..

Rufus' gaze shifted to stare at the ghost of his reflection that appeared against the thick glass window. Steel blue eyes that held no remorse gazed back at him like chips of ice. He could see that his lips had drawn into a thin line to show his annoyance towards recent events. He really felt like that ghost of a man that he saw; empty, incomplete and not really a human at all. He was someone who was sick of dealing with the parasites below; sick of using money to solve their problems; sick of dealing with the scum like his father had done in the past. It was about time to change how things were done. Rufus was not like his preceding family—men who cowered behind their desks of imaginary power. He didn't have their tempers or gluttony to influence him to make choices that he would later regret. No. Rufus was a young, apathetic revolutionary that had only a shadow for a soul. He would be the one to change the world.

Feeling a bit smug, Rufus inclined his head at his doppelganger in silent judgment. He then turned back to sit at the desk that he had abandoned to watch the chaos unfold outside his dark, peaceful office. His fingers glided over the polished metal surface of the desk that was too large for any man—even too much for his obese father. The dull gray luster of professionalism made Rufus' stomach twist in knots. The office reminded him of a cold, sterile hospital room that made him uneasy. That was the reason Rufus never turned on the lights during the night, spare a single desk lamp. He preferred the dark's company to dull white walls, tiled floors and metal tables that screamed of needles and disturbing images of Hojo's _scientific_ projects.

The desk would have to go. It took up half the room—why would anyone want something so large and bulky? Although, Rufus could see why a _fool_ would do such a thing; for the same reason a man would buy a sleek, red convertible with black leather interior. It was a self-conscious trait; a weakness where a man would buy tangible objects to compensate for other things in their lives.

Judging by the size of the desk, the young blonde assumed that his father had a lot of things to compensate for. Rufus had nothing missing from his life, so the desk would have to go. A nice oak wood desk and deep hunter green carpet would be the replacement. Maybe he'd hang a few tasteful pictures on the wall—anything to cover up the meat locker appearance. It made Rufus wonder what the designers had been thinking when planning out the room. Did they think the place made a man feel professional, organized, calm and in control? What a wasted effort. Rufus was already a cold-hearted, control obsessed, methodical president of ShinRa—and he wanted carpet in his office, not hard tile floors that sounded each of his footsteps like gunfire.

Rufus pulled a fresh notebook from the top drawer and centered it in front of himself. A pen was soon in hand and blue eyes bore down on the parallel lines that divided the clean paper. It was a pity that he would have to ruin the perfect image—but he would try to write as neatly as possible. That notebook would soon be transformed into his life as Rufus wrote out the plans for his 'reign of terror' and then his ultimate downfall. He would be the tragic hero of the time, yet without the heroics—in short he would be the great tragedy suffered by the people.

A sly smirk graced Rufus' delicate features as he began to write. Midgar would be in for quite the surprise. Everything was going to change—just as soon as his secretary came to work in the morning. They were all going to be part of his game.. his game of power.

**End Prologue**

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Notes: _Rufus is just my outlet for a mixture of blood, death, violence—all the good stuff that can be associated with a handsome villain. This story doesn't really have direction, and don't be surprised if I make it slashy. (Likely a Reno/Rufus) And no, it would not be a happy, caring relationship._ _And no indentations makes me sad._


	2. Part I

**Game of Power**

_By: Zavijah_

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"_From error to error, one discovers the entire truth."_

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"Would you send Reeve to my office," Rufus lifted his finger from the intercom button and waited for a reply. Blue eyes, now red and slightly puffy from lack of sleep, glared at the black contraption sitting on the edge of his desk. If given the time, it would melt under his demanding, unblinking stare.

"Uh, just a moment sir," the woman on the other end of the line hastily replied.

Rufus finally withdrew his hand from the intercom. His rigid motions laced with forced calmness all but screamed of his dying patience. The previous night proved to be a strain on Rufus' mind. His head felt heavy, clouded, and his fingers ached from tightly gripping a pen for hours. However, the time was not a waste; Rufus had been able to write out a good portion of his life onto the pristine sheets of notebook paper. Everything had been working out smoothly—the ball point gliding gently over the paper to leave the elegant curves of letters between the parallel blue lines. That was how it was until the sun peeked its burning arch over the distant horizon. Bright sun streaks filtered through the mako poisoned sky and glared into Rufus' office. The metal interior made the morning light too much for his tired eyes to endure and Rufus was forced to close his notebook and lay down his pen at the peak of his written plans. The young blonde was at the point of picking the deciding factor that would cause his downfall.

"Excuse me, Sir?"

Rufus head snapped upright at the sound of his secretary's voice that pulled him out of the grip of sleep. His eyes shifted to the intercom. It took a moment for his sluggish mind to realize that the woman could not see him waiting for a continuation. His slender finger pressed down on the send button. "Yes?"

"Reeve is not here. He's been on vacation since yesterday," the woman replied in a nervous rush.

Rufus flexed his fingers, tensing his muscles to release his annoyance. Reeve was in charge of Urban Development; Rufus had a few issues to discuss with the man—but now to have him absent put an ink smear on Rufus' otherwise perfect plans.

"Who is filling in for him?" Rufus calmly asked in a flat tone.

"That would be Tseng sir," came the reply accompanied with a relieved sigh.

Rufus glowered a moment before pushing down on the intercom, almost to a painful degree. He hated wasting time with pointless exchange of words. Did she really need to be told to do every little thing? Where was her common sense? "Then send _him_ to my office."

"He's not here." Yet another ink smear.

Lightly Rufus shook his head, sending a few golden strands of hair to fall over his sapphire gaze that was chiseled sharp with irritation. He ran his slender fingers through his unkempt hair that was in dire need of attention due to the abuse of his all-nighter. A part of him wanted to snap angrily at the girl, but Rufus knew that a temper would get nothing done. He had to remain calm and collected.

"Would you like some coffee, sir?"

Fingers fisted in the soft locks of sandy colored hair. The people around him were so _annoying_ and _incompetent_—but really it wasn't their fault. Stupidity was like a cold that everyone caught now and then. Rufus just made a habit of avoiding those that were ill. He pressed his finger down on the button for the last time. "If there is anyone _here_ that is closely involved with the Turks, send them to my office. Coffee would be great; black, no cream or sugar."

Rufus glanced at a digital clock off to his right and mentally noted the time before slumping over and resting his head against the desktop. Heavy eyelids fell down, welcoming the young president back into the darkness. Without the cheery sunlight to brighten Rufus mood, he was free to brood over his previous task—deciding the key event that would tear his success apart piece by piece—paper by paper.

He could feel it, the little black notebook, pressing into his chest with every breath due to the way Rufus had draped his upper torso over the desk. What could he possible write that would be his dramatic exit of the dying world. Death. Hm, that had always been a popular method.

A ghost of a smile passed over Rufus' lips as his fingertips began to lightly caress the metallic surface around him. That spot, the very one he was slumped in, had been the exact place where his father had died. Rufus couldn't help but wonder what had been the last fleeting thought to run through the man's head as his heart came to a quivering stop. Did he regret wasting his life—_eating­ _his days away one by one? Was he horrified that he did not see death standing in the shadows of his office. The ominous presence had been there all along, sitting in the darkness—waiting, watching the man's every move until he finally turned his back. Ignorance was his downfall. He had ignored those that posed no threat to him like they were air—what he could not see couldn't harm him. But oh, how wrong that man had been..

Yes, death had a strong impact on people. Although, it did not shock Rufus—but it had certainly given the secretary a fright when she had found the stout man hunched over his desk.

Rufus mulled over the idea a bit longer until the corners of his lips began to turn downward and his eyebrows drew together in an unconscious frown. If he did choose death, like his father had absently done, that meant it would have to be done by assassination-but who was suited to handle the task? Could anyone handle the pressure? No, there was no one that Rufus could think of that could be _the one_. Besides, if he wasn't around, he couldn't take pleasure in watching his plans fall perfectly into place. Also he couldn't keep away the dirty fingers that would try and smug the ink of his life. He couldn't let that happen, therefore death was not an option. Rufus deserved something better; something that would earn a huge reaction.

Fingertips continued to brush across the metal surface until a warm object became an obstacle in his hand's path. Eyes then slitted, revealing a line of sky blue that focused distantly on the styrofoam cup resting on the desk space next to his hand.

_Coffee?_

Rufus pulled his hand away from the desk. The fingertips connecting to the to-go cup were not his own. He traced his gaze up the elegant digits until fair colored skin disappeared beneath dark, fingerless gloves that in turn tucked under the sleeve of a black jacket. Rufus let his eyes continue their journey until it clicked in his mind that the sliver of a shadow in the sunlight was actually the figure of a man sitting on the opposite side of the desk.

Finally his eyes finished their passage and Rufus soaked in the lasting details. Unkempt suit that looked as if the other had fallen asleep in it—the jacket was wrinkled and left opened. White undershirt buttons were left undone at both ends and it was left untucked at the bottom. The look was topped off with disheveled red hair pulled back in a short ponytail, and the unruly long front bangs were held aside by a pair of fashionable sunglasses that were pushed back past the brow. The glasses left a pair of mako green eyes uncovered—eyes that tried to carve their way past the ice of Rufus' blues. All together the stranger was a direct contrast to the professionalism that plagued the rest of the office.

Rufus liked it.

The stranger nudged the cup towards Rufus and the young president took the offered drink. He silently took a sip. As soon as the strong, bitter taste hit his tongue, Rufus slammed the cup back down and shot an annoyed glace at the smiling man. "This is not what I wanted."

"I know," the other replied with a lazy shrug of one shoulder, a soft, flowing motion to demonstrate the man's lack of concern. His green eyes wandered to more entertaining objects in the room. "I was already on my way up here with that"–he gestured single-handedly to the cup—"and I thought '_what the heck_'"

"I see," Rufus attempted to take another sip but the smell was proving too much for him at the time. He needed it to make it through the day, but he would find something more to his taste. Oddly, the redhead sitting before him seemed to be doing the job for the morning. "What is it?"

"Espresso. It gives more of a kick than plain coffee." The man grinned lopsidedly before letting his attention stray once more. "It looks like you need a good wake up call."

"Mm," Rufus drawled while letting himself openly stare at the stranger. Mentally he was making small judgments about him. Such as how the other's outward appearance spoke of him being lethargic—but his graceful motions hinted more towards his apathy about his outward look. Reno moved with a purpose, even if it was a casual flick of his cat eyes to meet Rufus' criticizing gaze. On the other hand, Reno should have been no one special. He'd prove to be just like the others around him if given the chance. Rufus inwardly sighed as he glanced at the clock and found that it had been forty minute since he first laid his head down on the desk. The realization made him bristle in alarm. "How long have you been here?"

The disorderly man snapped his green eyes back to examine Rufus' masked expression. He paused thoughtfully on the questions, allowing his head to tilt a second before glancing towards the nearby clock, "About twenty minutes."

Rufus eyebrows rose with the unexpected answer, "And you simply sat there the entire time?"

"Yes," the man smiled, his eyes flickering with dark interest. He reached forward and ran his fingertips over the metal surface of the desk—much like how Rufus had been doing moments before. "I didn't want to disturb you. It looked like you were thinking about something important, and you looked kind of cute when half-asleep."

Rufus let one brow lower while the other remained raised in skeptism, "What's your name?"

"Reno, sir" the redhead responded as if out of habit. By then he had withdrawn his hand and had settled his restlessness by fiddling with a nearby picture frame.

"Well then, Reno.." Rufus let his voice dip, demanding the other's gaze. He quietly watched as the man cocked his head at the picture—one of a family that only existed because of a name—then he set the frame back down before finally bringing his eyes back to Rufus. The blonde in turn let his gaze slit into a venomous glare. "Get off my desk."

Reno's lips parted as if to reply but he seemed to think better of his words and smirked instead. He slid off the edge of the desk and backed off a few steps. When he stopped he took on a slanted stance that seemed to shift his weight back and forth—laidback yet nervous at the same time.

Rufus took the moment to try and once again stick a label to the strange man, but nothing seemed to categorize him—at least not anything that could be determined with a first impression. Everything that Rufus assumed would be disproved by small motions, words, or gesticulations by the redhead. Thoughtfully Rufus let his tongue run over the point of his canine as he finished eyeing the other—a predator sizing up his prey before deciding one which part to eat first. "So, what are you, my coffee boy?"

"No, not even close," Reno slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged again for a reason unknown to the young president. However, the gesture allowed Rufus to glimpse at the black handle of the standard issue handgun that rested peacefully in Reno's shoulder holster. "Your secretary said you were looking for someone closely involved with the Turks, so here I am."

"You're a Turk." Rufus stated, not questioned. It was just another twist in his mental sketch. Just another time to erase and redraw the fine gray lines that served as guidelines. Rufus had become to accustom to dealing, and seeing Tseng—straight, clean suit; stone-faced, predictable and uninteresting. Yet, where Tseng was a professional in his appearance, Reno carried none of those traits. Of course he had to be good if he was allowed to be Turk, not just any ruffian off the street got to serve in the elite branch of government. Rufus suppose the slacking appearance was an advantage to Reno, it caused people to underestimate him; a costly mistake. Besides, the unkempt style separated the redhead from the others; it was a wonderful change of scenery in Rufus' opinion.

"I need information gathered on all the rebel groups that base themselves in Midgar," Rufus laid down the orders and carefully watched as Reno's shoulders slumped with the new burden.

"There are only three active groups. So maybe you want information on _just_ them." Reno's mako-tinted eyes rolled back onto the president.

Rufus raised his folded hands in front of his face so he could rest his elbows on the desk—it also hid the way his lips quirked up in a bitter smirk. Sure, Reno was nice on the eyes but it didn't mean that Rufus liked him. In fact it might prove to be the opposite. He was amusing, yet annoying. "But when those three are taken care of, the others will rise to take their place. It's better, easier, if we simply _crush_ them at the same time."

Reno rolled his shoulders as a faint smile tried to mar the serious expression he was fighting to maintain. "Yes, but my way means less paperwork and it ensures I will have a job when those other groups arise."

"True," Rufus let one of his hands fall to rest on the desk while the other became a pillow for the side of his tiring features. The redhead was honest. It was a bit disturbing to not hear the usual excuse—but telling the truth was a dangerous trait, because Rufus didn't know how to pick out the secrets hidden behind blunt honest. "I can find other jobs for your department to do."

Reno snorted causing Rufus' eyebrows to shoot up in silent questioning. The redhead lightly shook his head and turned to walks towards the window. He flipped his sunglasses down to shield his eyes from the harsh rays. Rufus tried to follow the other's moves but the morning light burned his sensitive eyes and he finally turned his face away from the window. "Have something you want to share?"

"Yeah. You have no idea what we do, do you?" was the biting reply.

Mockery. The taste was bitter sweet inside of Rufus' mouth. He sneered at the empty spot on the desk that had once served as a seat for the Turk. This other man seemed to know what little power Rufus really had—why else would he continuously cross the line with sharp remarks that cut more than just the skin; not that Rufus would show any sign of weakness.

"Sir, Tseng is here." The intercom voice broke the tension that had been quickly building to a suffocating degree. Maybe it had just been Rufus' chest that had painfully tightened in anger—or perhaps in fear that the other know how powerless he was, a threat that would end Rufus plans before they had a chance to begin. Rufus could feel the real _power_—the mako radiating from Reno's eyes. The poisonous orbs were watching him behind the black veil of his sunglasses. He could feel the mako mercilessly burning into his skin. Even if the other was only a shadow against the morning light, Rufus knew the other was watching him; waiting for the young president to make a fatal mistake.

But Rufus couldn't let that happen. He didn't make mistakes when he had already laid out his plans in perfect order. Everyone else around him made the errors, he just worked around them.

"You do what I tell you to do," Rufus calmly stated before pressing his finger down to speak into the intercom. "Send him to my office."

"Ah well," Reno stirred at the window, pivoting his body towards the direction of the door. "I didn't come up here to receive orders anyway."

"Oh?" Rufus feigned interest as he stood from his desk, walked around and leaned up against the edge.

"Ever since your old man died, I've been curious to see who assumed power," Reno's silhouette shrugged then headed for the double doors.

Rufus couldn't help but to chuckle—a string of low laughs that echoed the hollow of his soul. There was that fickle word again, power. It haunted him like a shadow.

"What?" Reno inquired, his general curiosity finally reaching past his eyes and into his voice. "Why are you laughing?"

"Curiosity killed the cat, Reno," Rufus smiled; blue eyes flashing darkly, dangerously at the approaching redhead. A step closer and Rufus might have lashed out. How dare that man challenge his 'power' when he had none at all. Was he blind, or simply a stray dolt from the herd? _Rip his eyes out. Make him blind. Anything but stupid, clueless.._

Reno paused as a knock sounded from the door. Both heads turned as a man pushed aside the metal doors and strolled into the middle of the room. Black suit was buttoned, freshly pressed and not a wrinkle creased the fabric as the man stood ramrod straight. Hands were clasped firmly behind his back and his chin was slightly inclined with a neutral expression. His long raven black hair remained neatly tucked behind his ears, not a strand out of place.

This man was the incarnation of professionalism that Rufus loathed.

"Sir, you wanted to see me?" the man asked the expected question while his eyes wandered to Reno.

"Yes," Rufus resumed his businessman façade so quickly that was as if another being had taken control of his limbs and had smothered the fires in his eyes. Apathy was once again his personality, a cold man without the violent images dancing through his mind. "Glad you could finally come, Tseng."

"Actually," Reno interrupted while stepping up to the other Turk, "the president and I were in the middle of a discussion. You can wait outside the door until we're done."

Tseng's gaze remained on Reno in silent regard. Rufus could see the annoyance hardening the man's expression to surpass that of stone. It must have been a practiced reaction, like it wasn't the first time Reno had become an embarrassment, or one that would ever end. Carefully the older Turk held back his tongue from whipping out to scar the teasing found on the curve of Reno's lips. Coal black eyes eventually shifted to the president—the one who was watching the exchange like a hawk. "Sir?"

"Power, that's what's funny, Reno." Rufus snapped flat toned at the redhead. The neutral, blank expression on his face hardly contained the harshness beneath the words. "Now, get out of my office."

Reno waved his hand through the air as if he didn't care. His feet carried him the short distance to and through the doorway. As soon as the metal door clicked to a close, Rufus shifted his attention to the boring colors of the more professional Turk. "I need information gathered on the terrorist groups here in Midgar."

"Yes sir, I'll get onto that right away." Tseng's bland reply seemed to end their conversation.

Rufus gave the stiff man a quick look over. He could practically taste the revulsion emitting from the other man. Did the old Turk not take well to being ordered around by the new, young _punk_ president—who only got the position because he was _daddy's only son._

_Well, at least he isn't the only one disgusted by the selection process,_ Rufus smirked.

"Let's make this easy on Reno. I'm interested in the groups that live under the plates," The dark humorous joke fell flat against Tseng unchanging expression. Rufus grunted before standing and moving around to sit in the leather chair behind his desk. The soft creak of leather was the only sound between them. Apparently the older man didn't have the same sense of humor as the young redhead—a pity. It was obvious that Reno would be the one doing all the legwork of the organization.

Tseng still stood alert, waiting for an approval to leave. Rufus however ignored him and began to hum a slow tune into the uncomfortable silence. He picked up his discarded pen and flipped open the small black notebook to reveal his night's writings. Dithering as much as possible, Rufus raised a hand and licked the end of his index finger. He then brought the moistened tip down on the dry paper and proceeded to smear the ink in seemingly random places on the sheet. Rufus eyes lifted along with a soft smile. He glanced at the black tinge coloring the end of his finger before sticking it into his mouth to remove the offensive stain.

Rufus paused long enough to let his sapphire eyes laugh at Tseng's tense form. "You can go now."

Long raven hair nearly rose in the air with how fast the Turk turned on heel and swiftly made for the exit.

"Oh, and Tseng.."

The man stopped, hand resting on the doorknob. He did not turn around, however, keeping his scowl aimed at the metallic surface before him. Rufus merely let his smile broaden at the pleasing sensation of stabbing needles into the other's nerves. "Be sure you don't make any mistakes."

**End Chapter.**

_Yeah. Definitely a dark relationship between Reno and Rufus, I can't help myself. Oh, why am I updating this and not my other stories? Well, I lost my notebook (with the chapters I was writing) on one of the planes I took to get here, my new home, Fairbanks Alaska. I do, luckily, have parts of those stories saved on a floppy disk—but this laptop doesn't have that, so I need to order an external floppy. In the mean time, I'm just going to amuse myself with this 'slowly driving Rufus to the point of insanity' thing._


	3. Part II

**Game of Power**

_By: Zavijah_

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"_A sense of duty is useful in work, but offensive in personal relations."_

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"Aah!" A shiver ran up the spine of the 6'5" man compounded mainly of thick muscles covered by dark skin. Barret stopped walking and let himself shudder with the dark feeling that had crawled up his backbone and was now nagging his conscious.

"Barret?" The girl accompanying him paused, then whirled around to face him, causing her long, dark brown hair (tucked in a tight ponytail) to curl around the smooth, white skin of her neck. Fiery honey-brown eyes squinted up at the tall man in question. "Something wrong?"

'I jes got that feelin', ya'know, like sumthin' bad is gonna happ'n" He slurred in his thick slum accent. "I dun think its safe ta keep goin'"

Barret rubbed the thick but short, black haired beard growing along his jawline. As the undisputed leader of Avalanche, he was always paying close attention to the way the hairs would suddenly rise on the back on his neck. It meant danger, and it was his self-appointed duty to make sure no one got hurt.

"Barret!" this time the gentle female voice was stern, demanding. Her metal-studded gloved hands were fisted menacingly and pressing into the black fabric of the shorts circling her slende hips. She narrowed her eyes in pre-warning. "You're not trying to get out of visiting your daughter, are you?"

"Wha!?" Barret tore his eyes away from the shadowy piles of scrape metal that lined the dirt path. He pinned one of his best 'who-do-ya-think-yer-talkin'-to?' scowls down on the feisty girl blocking his path. "Wha'cha talkin' 'bout? You think I'ma scared of that? I ain't scared of nuthin'! I jes gotta bad feelin' an' its my responsibility ta always pay attention to the risks that are involved. Thas'all. You know that Tifa."

The girl, Tifa, didn't seem convinced. Barret knew not to take the seemingly frail figure of a girl lightly. Tifa was a nice girl, but always a passionate fighter before anything else. She was lethal in her self-taught martial arts, and her tough attitude she possessed had developed from living the hard life in Midgar's slums. Most of all, she was a valued member of his gang, Avalanche. And push-overs were not allowed to join.

And currently, Barret didn't want to risk earning a well-aimed, bone-crushing hit from the brunette. "Tifa, what if I'm right, huh? What then?"

"Relax Barret," The young fighter switched her approach and frowned in disappointment at the dark skinned man. "We're not on a mission. This is just a visit to see your daughter. The worst thing that could happen is that someone will try to mug us—they wouldn't stand a chance though, right?"

The reassuring wink from the short brunette didn't settle the flip-flops Barret's stomach was performing. His dark eyes wandered back to the ominous surroundings even though Tifa had seized his arm and was trying to tug his taller form forward. "I dunno. It feels like we bein' watched. Can't ya sense it?"

Tifa paused in her efforts to move the bulky body that was more like a tank when standing next to hers. She wrinkled her nose as she surveyed the metal heaps and strained to hear past the sound of their rhythmic breathing. After a moment she lightly planted a friendly punch to the middle of Barret's broad chest. "It's probably just a rat! The more we stand around like this, the more attention we attract—besides you promised Marlene you would come see her."

Those emotional brown eyes were once again on Barret, stabbing at his one weakness. Guiltily the man nervously fingered the edge of the gun that was grafted to the bottom of his right arm, which had replaced the hand he had lost years ago. "Awright, but if anythin' goes wrong there is gunna be hell ta pay."

'Yeah yeah, whatever you say," Tifa grinned while tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She freed Barret's arm and took the lead on the dirt path.

Barret cast one last threatening glare at the unseen dangers. He then willed his heavy boots forward until he and Tifa were once again progressing. Soon the trash piles thinned and rays of sunlight peeked down from between the plates above. The yellow strips of light breathed life into the unbelievable scenery before them. Bundles of healthy, yellow flowers grew scattered along the path and surrounded the small quaint little red-roofed house that looked happy to be circled by the plant life. In the background a waterfall fell musically into the stream that cut through the flower beds.

Sure, the water was actually polluted from the mako reactors, and the flowers that grew were actually a notorious weed from the southern continent—it _still_ made the sight stir a fluttering sense of hope that made Barret's heart soar. It also created a genuine smile to relax Barret's tense features. Only one other thing could bring that smile to his face, and that thing was—

"Papa!" A young voice called out. Barret caught the disappearing glimpse of a head in the window before the door of the small house flung open and a little girl in a faded purple dress ran out. Her little arms were thrown into the air as she neared Barret, allowing him to pick up her small frame and toss her giggling into the air.

"There's my little girl!" Barret cheered as he easily caught her, spun then sat her on one of his massive shoulders. "How's my Marlene doin'?"

"Great!" Marlene exclaimed while hugging one of her arms around her father's head. "Today Aeris taught me how ta tend the garden."

"Oh yeah?" He laughed as he beamed up at the small girl that was his pride and joy. She wasn't really his daughter—any outsider could tell by the deep contrasting color of skin. Her parents, close friends of Barret's, were lost in a tragic accident that happened when Marlene was almost too young to remember. Ever since then Barret had taken it upon himself to see that Marlene got the best out of life. She was the sole reason to why he had assembled his 'protectors of the planet'—to save the world so Marlene would have a future. "Didja have fun?"

"Uh-huh, and guess what we found," Marlene squirmed on his shoulder. Her abundant source of energy always keeping her moving.

"I dunno, what did ya find?" Barret headed towards the house where Tifa was conversing with a young woman dressed in a a light pink dress and had auburn curls falling down past her shoulders. She smiled at him when he neared, her features as delicate and beautiful as the flowers around them.

"A cattypiwer!" Marlene replied, expressing the answer like she was shouting 'surprise'.

"Wow, that's purdy neat," Barret reached the doorway and lifted Marlene off his shoulder. As soon as her petite feet hit the ground she took off in a run towards the flower beds. Barret nodded towards Tifa, then the other woman, "Hey Aeris."

* * *

The magnified reflection of Barret danced in the curved lens set before a pair of Mako green eyes. Reno lowered the pair of binoculars just as the sound of a camera clicking came from the man lying to his immediate right. Suddenly feeling a surge of panic, Reno's fingercut gloved hand swiped out and pushed the contraption down from the other's eyes. "What the hell are you doing Rude!?"

The other suited Turk, Rude, slowly turned his cleanly shaved head towards Reno. Black, square frame glasses shielded the man's eyes, preventing the redhead from reading any emotion off the otherwise neutral expression. All he could see was his own angry reflection.

"Taking pictures of the targets," Rude blandly answered. His face remained directed towards the younger Turk. Even in his strong silence he was bombarding Reno with questions.

"No, not here." _Not of her._ Reno shook his head, trying to strangle the weakness echoing in his voice.

Rude stared a moment in silent thought before he turned back to his camera—which he lifted back to eye level in order to spy at the group below. He fiddled with the focusing lens but didn't take a picture as Reno had said to not do.

Reno laid down the binoculars and hunched down in the dried weeds located above on the raised ground across the path of the small house of flowers. He knew the girls standing in the doorway—he knew her too well.

"That girl is the one Tseng assigned you to," Rude's monotone voice stated what he had figured out on his own.

Reno pressed his face further into the dried plants so he no longer had to look at his long-time partner. The decaying scent still seemed to smell more appeasing than the poisoned air trapped underneath the plates. He growled angrily at the afternoon heat and also the uncomfortable situation that he was forced into because of his sense of duty. Yes, of course he knew her, Aeris. The first day he became a Turk he was appointed to watch over the flowergirl, to keep her safe, but to always watch from the shadows. She knew about him anyway, which made Reno's stalking job a lot easier. Over the years he had begun to think of her as a younger sister—it made the job more tolerable.

He didn't want her to become involved with their information gathering on Avalanche. She didn't need to get twisted into the plans of the new president, Rufus. That man made Reno uneasy, merely because he couldn't predict how the young VP would react—he didn't know what the other was planning, so it was better to keep Aeris out of harm's path. All he could figure out, or find in Rufus was the flicker of insanity trapped deeply within glacier blue eyes. A picture was all the man needed to somehow drag Aeris into the picture.

"We're done here," Rude commented offhandedly after their targets had moved inside of the house. He stood, not even the weeds cracked under the pressure of his lights footsteps. After all, the man was a well trained spy/assassin/scout, whatever label people stuck to the Turk organization.

Reno didn't follow his partner's lead. Instead he rolled over onto his back and dug into the breast pocket of his black jacket. His fingers pulled out a familiar pack of cigarettes, and soon the comforting taste of nicotine was lingering, tingling in his senses. He took a few drags while staring up at the metal plate high above them. The toxic smoke he inhaled helped him to calm down and think.

_What are you planning Rufus?_

Reno exhaled, watching the ghost like wisps vanish before his eyes. There was something big being planned, he could feel it deep down inside—but he didn't know what to expect and that worried him the most, and Reno was not the type to care much about the actions of others. But this new guy, Rufus, there was something.. wrong about him.

"Reno, get up." The redhead felt his foot being kicked, but could care less about going back to headquarters to fill out the dreaded paperwork.

"Fuck off," Reno snapped more harshly than he meant. He pushed his sunglasses over his eyes to avoid exchanging glances. With cigarette held firmly between lips, Reno folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the metal sky. He cursed mentally—Rude could handle the papers—at that thought Reno sat up in alarm. "And don't submit those pictu—fuck!"

Reno jerked wildly and swiped furiously at his crotch where the cherry of his cigarette had fallen. The burning sensation stopped and Reno surveyed the damage—a hole in the front of his black pants. Luckily it never made it through the fabric of his boxers. Though, it still meant he had to go change—Reno was sloppy and lethargic enough not to care, but he at least he had a sense of style and cool to maintain. A hole in his clothes was something he could not tolerate.

"Stupid fucking job, shitty cheap-ass cigarettes, God damn half-crazed bosses, Bitchy greedy landlord, crappy leaky roof.. Fuck.. my life sucks." Reno stood and flicked the rest of his cigarette into the nearby brush. Mumbling irritably, the redhead took one last glance at his ruined pants before heading off in the direction of the train station.

It was a relatively short walk from Sector 5 slums to the Sector 8 train station. Somewhere along the way Reno caught up with his taller, much balder partner, Rude. They walked in mutual silence, watching the rest of the world through black tinted sunglasses. When they finally arrived at the station, the train wasn't there. The two turks stood at the edge, knowing one could arrive soon if they waited.

"Why don't you give me the camera," Reno held up his hand, waiting to feel the weight of the device. It never came.

"Why don't you fuck off?" Rude replied his voice deep and never wavering so that he spoke as if he had just said a simple hello.

Reno smirked with a light shake of his head. The older Turk beside him was not exhibiting anger, merely being a wisecrack—Reno knew how to read the other, it was sort of a job requirement to be able to do so. Reno nudged the other Turk in the side with his elbow, "Ass."

Rude's large hand came down on Reno's shoulder and he gave the other a forceful shove, causing the redhead to sidestep to remain upright. "Dumbass."

Smiling now, Reno slid back up to the taller—stepping on his foot in the process, "Jackass."

Rude's hand came up, lightly cuffing the side of Reno's head, "Asshole."

Reno lazily brushed aside his bangs that had fallen into his vision from the blow. He glanced quickly to see the faintest tug of a smile at the corner of Rude's lips. Truly they were good friends, and always had been since the first day they worked together. Through the years of partnership, each other had grown to know the other well. Reno knew that their childish game of banter and hits had always been a favored way to waste time—or rather smooth over trampled feelings. After all, Reno had been unkind to the other moments before—believable or not, Rude was actually a sensitive guy. The sunglasses only hid so much from Reno's sharp observation skills.

"Asswipe," Reno brought his foot up and skillfully hit the back of Rude's knee, causing the taller to stumble in his stance before regaining his balance. Reno laughed at the sight while leaning forward over the edge of the platform to see if the train would be arriving soon—that was when he pitched forward onto the railway due to a simple shove from Rude.

"Smartass."

Reno grumbled as he picked himself up off the ground and dusted off his suit. He then thought better of his actions, the suit was already ruined so there was no point in salvaging it now. Reno attempted to climb back onto the platform as his mind clicked through the various names containing the word 'ass'. And after a few failed attempts, where the platform mocked Reno's height, the redhead grudgingly extended his hand up to his partner. "Help me up, fuckass."

Rude gripped Reno's wrist as the redhead did the same to his. He hauled the young Turk onto the platform and patted the other good-naturedly on the back—sending up a cloud of dust in the process. "You okay fatass?"

Reno frowned at the name while he slide his hands over his backside, "No, I think I broke my _fatass_."

Rude managed to flash a quick smile before his expression went blank and his stance straightened in seriousness. Reno responded instantly by putting on his own cold demeanor—letting the icy exterior of an assassin frost over his usually playful eyes. He looked up at the other man's eyes that were covered by the opaque sunglasses. Rude's face was directed slightly to the left. Reno knew how to read his partner's motions all to well. Something was behind them, nothing dangerous, but worthy of Turk's attention.

Reno concentrated on the footsteps—two pairs—approaching from behind. Their rhythm was easy, not at all rushed or trying to be sneaky. It must have been a couple of people waiting for the scheduled train, which Reno could also hear barreling down the tracks. The others were drawing close enough now that Reno could make out their reflection in his partner's glasses.

Strawberry-blonde hair paired with dark brown. The voices were vaguely familiar, one female and the other male. However, the noise of the train drowned out their words. The engine hissed to a halt and the doorman stepped out. Reno and Rude casually entered and assumed standing positions in the first cart so that the people behind them were forced to pass by.

Impassively Reno watched from behind his shades as the pair past. At once the redhead knew who they were—like their mugshots and files were burned into his memory. Jessie, the female computer hacker and technician—Biggs, male spy and strategist—both members of Avalanche, one of three active rebel groups within Midgar's borders. It was that very group that Reno and Rude had been gathering information on the leader mere moments earlier.

The pair moved into the next car, blissfully unaware of being under the attention of the two Turks. As soon as the train began to move, Reno smirked over at his partner. ShinRa wanted information on Avalanche, and what could be a better source of information than a live source? The silent agreement passed between the two. Rude jerked his head to the side, popping the taunt muscles in his neck. He then cracked his knuckles before heading for the next train car. Reno reached into his suit jacket and pulled out his electric rod. The metal end was designed in layers that would slide smoothly inside of each other, the final layer being the hard rubber handle—it traveled nicely in his breast pocket next to his pack of cigarettes. Now, with a grin on his face, Reno extended the metal piece to its full length then trailed after his taller partner.

**End Chapter.**


	4. Part III

**Game of Power**

_By: Zavijah_

* * *

_"Since love and fear can hardly exist together, if he must choose between them, _

_it is far safer to be feared than loved."

* * *

_

Love.

It was another word that lacked definition in Rufus' life. He knew the word when it applied to a family, a loving mother and father with their pride and joy. They lived happily together for years in happiness because of love—or so that was the impression Rufus had been given. He wouldn't know if it was really true. His mother had died upon giving birth to him, and his relationship with his father had never been a pleasant one. There was no love in his life, whatever memories Rufus had of his family was buried deep in the darkness of his mind the same day his father was laid six feet under the diseased ground.

The emotion that other people preceived to be love was nothing but a bundle of confusing impulses. It just didn't exist, because like the rest of the world, the feelings were always changing. A man could claim to love a woman for only so long before his feelings changed and he would leave saying it was not love. The word held no meaning. It was an _excuse_.

What _fools_.

How could anyone be so blind to such animalistic actions and naively argue it to be love? Just because humans had a conscious did not mean they were able to grasp and feel something as complex and unreal as love. People could be lov-_ers_, but that was it, nothing more than two beings enjoying sexually based interactions with each other--it was one-minded creatures following their desires.

Cerulean eyes narrowed as they watched from behind a dark mirror—the object of their attention completely unaware of the loathing gaze. Sitting on the other side of the masked glass, in a plain white room, was a nervous couple from the slums. Both of them were key members to the terrorist group known as Avalanche, which made them pests in need of extermination. Yet how dare they cower and hold onto one another as if the walls were slowly closing in to squash them. Rufus' enemies were suppose to be a lot stronger—not anything like the fearful rodents twitching apprehensively within their cage. How could he possibly reach his peak in 'power' if his foes were not worthy of defeating?

However, it made Rufus curious. If those two were part of the biggest threat towards him, and saying that was a joke, then was there anyone out there strong enough to take him down? The two rebels were not even worth his time—yet ever since the Turks had dragged them into ShinRa's headquarters, Rufus couldn't help but notice the way their hands would grasp the other's, and their eyes would meet briefly in meaningful glances. They were more than just two terrorists trapped behind enemy lines, they _loved_ one another.

And it made Rufus sick.

The young president wanted nothing more than to break their fantasy—to stab their frantic hearts with the nearest sharp object and watch as their dark blood pumped out of their frail bodies then weave into the fine strands of white that made up his jacket sleeves. He wanted to kill their love. It was such an enticing image..

"Sir?"

Rufus pulled himself out of his blood-soaked daydream and turned his ice coated eyes towards the tall, bald Turk that had called for his attention.

"Did you want to speak with the suspects?" The man blandly spoke while holding up a set of folders that contained all the current information on Avalanche. Rufus had skimmed through them an hour earlier. He was actually slightly impressed with the efficiency of the Turk department. The orders to gather information had been made that morning, soon after Rufus had fallen asleep on his office desk. Next thing he knew the intercom voice of his secretary had jerked him awake to inform him that no only did the Turks have completed files on one rebel group, but they even had _live_ people that were brought in for interrogation.

"It's kind of pointless to call them suspects when we already know they're terrorists," Rufus' deadpan statement of dry sarcasm didn't stir a single reaction from the tall Turk. It seemed Reno would be the only uniform that wasn't afraid to laugh.

Rufus plucked the folders from the silent Turk, scowling darkly with his hatred towards every other human. He pushed open the door to the small white room, only to bump into the previously mentioned red-headed Turk and drop the files at the same time. Sea green and ocean blue met in a burst of angry waves. Sparks flashed between the two complimentary colors as a storm threatened to take over.

"Watch wher—"both started then abruptly cut off.

Their eyes remained locked until Reno's resorted to a more peaceful glow of a playful cat, where as Rufus frosted over in annoyance. The Turk flashed a smirk before attempted to casually slink past. However, he didn't get too far due to Rufus shifting his weight to block the doorway.

Both pairs of eyes glanced down at the files lying strewn across the floor. Rufus lifted his gaze first, golden eyebrows were slanted to communicate his angry demand that Reno pick up the papers. The redhead returned the expression but with a hint of mockery, one of his fiery eyebrows rose—silent laughter.

A forced cough from a third patron ended the staring contest between Rufus and Reno. They looked towards the bald Turk that remained hidden behind black sunglasses and a neutral expression. Reno snorted a bitter laugh before quickly shaking his head. Crimson bangs fell forward, the pointed ends brushing over the faded scars on his cheeks. Rufus just then noticed the peculiar marks, before he had been preoccupied by Reno's mako-poisoned eyes. Now that he saw the perfect lines tracing beneath those same eyes in a twisting dark way, Rufus couldn't help but wonder about their origin.

"Pardon me," Reno low growl dripped with his repressed sarcasm. He knelt down on one knee and began to gather the tan folders—not bothering to organizing the pile, but simply bunching them together. "Let me just pick these up for you, sir."

Rufus eyebrows arched in question. How easily the young Turk had succumbed to his influence, much to Rufus' disappointment. What had caused the sudden change—a subtle cough from the bald man? It didn't make sense to the blonde president, and in turn he assumed there was something being said that he could not see or hear. Rufus didn't like to be the one out of the loophole. How could that other Turk have control over Reno when Rufus could barely get a proper salute from the redhead? It wasn't fair. Rufus was the one that was suppose to have the imaginary force—the _power_.

"Here," Reno shoved the disorderly pile into Rufus' chest.

Ah, offensive and disrespectful as expected. Rufus would have to punish the man one way or another. The VP pushed the papers back at the Turk and seized a fistful of the man's untucked shirt instead. _Rufus_ would be the one in control, no one would be allowed to push him around, or have power over something he could not.

Reno was dragged, shirt first, into the plain white room with a metal table and matching chairs in the center. As soon as the door closed, Rufus released the Turk and motioned for him to 'stay'. He then turned to face the Avalanche couple, but not before dropping his glare to let a gentle, disarming smile soften his youthful features to play on the image of innocence.

Rufus sat opposite of the other two and silently judged them as they did the same to him through fearful eyes. They were in poor physical condition. The female had a dried cut across here cheek and here strawberry-blonde hair was frazzled and shaken much like how the rest of her body trembled. The male was worse. His left eyes was swollen shut and turning a disturbing mixture of dull yellow and bruise purple. There was some sort of burn mark across his face—the skin melted and charred to make a hideous sight of his face—an injury that was compliments of Reno's electric rod.

The president glanced back at the Turk, internally questioning and praising the man for the act of pure violence. Reno was leaning up against the wall, one hand shoved in his pocket while the other continued to hold the files. The acute frown on his face was enough to speak for his wounded pride.

_Good boy. You do what I tell you to do._

As if reading Rufus' mind, Reno's eyes flicked in silent threat. Rufus was half-tempted to smirk, to provoke the Turk further into enforcing the warning. But he had no time to partake in such behavior, he had business at hand. Rufus turned back to his other company and smiled sympathetically, "Have they treated your wounds?"

Silence. The pair glanced nervously at each other, to Reno, then finally back to Rufus.

"No? Well let me be the first to apologize. When I said I wanted to meet with you, I didn't realize these Turks would arrange it in such a violent way," Rufus heard Reno snort in the background but paid no mind because the two were focused solely on him. "I realize now that they were trained under my father's rules, so they misunderstood my request."

Pause for effect, let the words soak in. Rufus watched as the couple looked thoughtful. Their eyes exchanged another glance—that meaningful _loving_ look that filled Rufus' soul with spite. Yet he still managed to smile at them, waiting for the moment when one would summon up enough courage to speak.

"What do you want from us?" The male snapped.

Rufus' brow scrunched in feigned confusion at the anger directed towards him. On the inside, he laughed at the man's use of the pronoun 'us'. As if anyone could speak the mind of two people."I want to make peace with Avalanche."

"Bullshit," the man glanced across the table, but the faint glow in his dark eyes told Rufus that the words had hooked him. "ShinRa is evil, they don't make peace with anybody!"

"True. That was how the company was run under my father, and his father, and his father's father and so forth. But now that I have taken over the company, a few days ago, I feel that it is time for change. I don't want to fight with you," the lies fell easily from Rufus' silver tongue more smoothly than any truth ever could. "I wanted to meet with the member's Avalanche to discuss how I can make Midgar a better place."

"No way. You'll have to kill us before we trust the words from ShinRa," the rebel male spat in distaste, struggling against the line that was reeling him in.

"To be honest, if I wanted you dead, you would not be sitting here. I don't want to kill anybody—I'm not like that," Rufus sighed, internally amused at the frown on the girl's lips when her companion spoke of their death as one.

"You'll say anything to get what you want."

_True again. Too bad your mind is being wasted_. Rufus allowed himself to fall silent as if his feelings were hurt. Biggs was proving to be cleverer than he appeared—but Rufus would win one way or another in the end, and he was well aware of that fact. "What I want is to hear what my father has ignored all these years. Avalanche is against mako-energy and so am I, but the scientists here don't want to work on finding a new energy source, so I am turning to you for help."

The man had nothing to say to refuse, so he turned the situation over to the woman—a poor mistake on his part because she had already been netted by the false words. "For real?"

Rufus nodded, not trusting his voice to hide the sadistic urges circling in his mind like a vulture. He wanted to laugh as well. Never did he think that tricking his enemies would be so easy. Sure, lying to his father was easy. Lying to the employees of ShinRa HQ was merely a game he played to pass time. He never thought his foes would be so eager to accept his offer. What topped it off was how honest the pair appeared. After all, _heroes_ were not expected to play dirty tricks to get what they wanted. Oh no, they were too honorable for that. What Idiots.

"We'd love to change Midgar for the better. But out leader is the one who has all the good ideas," the girl smiled, the dried blood clinging to her cheek was the only thing Rufus could find appealing.

"Leader? You mean you two are not leaders?" Rufus craned his neck back while raising his hand into the air. Reno caught onto the gesture and rolled his green eyes before handing the files over to the president. Rufus then spread the folders over the tabletop, flipping open the covers to expose the pictures and typed documents on the inside. He waved one elegant hand over the assorted contents. "My father had placed spies on you in the past, gathering all this information because he saw you as a threat to his Neo-Midgar project. It holds various details about Avalanche members. Let's see here.."

Rufus rummaged through the documents before he found pictures that matched the people sitting across from him. He took the corresponding folders and slid them over. "Jessie. Biggs. Correct?"

"Y-yeah," the girl responded while her eyes rapidly looked from the folder to Rufus' calm expression. The president gestured to the papers, urging the two to look inside.

Biggs timidly reached for his file, scared that if he stretched his arm out too far Rufus would rip it off. "Why are you showing us this?"

"Those were made to clarify you as targets, but you were a threat to my father, not to me. I don't need to put spies on you to gather information—in short, I don't _need_ these files. Instead I want to use them to confirm with you who is all part of Avalanche to move them out of the slums for safety reasons. I don't know what my father was planning before he died. I suspect the worst." Rufus began to pluck the various photos out of the other folders. He laid them out in the middle of the table.

"Smells fishy to me," Biggs frowned at the pictures.

"Why?" Rufus kept his own gaze adverted so he wouldn't end up hinting at his cruel enjoyment of pulling their strings like they were marionettes and he the puppeteer.

"You just want to know so you can kill us all," Biggs shoved his file back towards Rufus.

"Biggs, I know it's hard to accept that your once sworn enemy is now asking for an alliance, but it's true. I'm not like my father, I want to change things. Besides.. If I really was as evil as you are trying to make me out to be, then I wouldn't need to confirm who is in Avalanche. I have all the information right here, if I wanted you dead, it would have happened already whether the people in these photos were innocent or guilty. It wouldn't matter, _if_ I was like my father." Rufus tapped each of the photos, stressing his point that each of individuals could disappear with a snap of his fingers. It was true though, Biggs was wrong with his assumption. Rufus wanted to know about the members so he could find if there was anyone worth his time—if any of the pictures showed him someone strong enough to cause his empire to crumple. There had to be someone..

"Just tell me if the information is correct," Rufus pushed one photo forward. It showed a brown-haired girl in sweatpants, t-shirt and hand wraps. She appeared to be training somewhere in a vacant lot of the slums. "The file states that this is Tifa and she runs the bar known as 7th heaven. Is this right?"

"Yes—"

"Whoa! Don't tell him that shit Jess—are you stupid? He's trying to trick us." Biggs' glare was no longer on Rufus, instead he fixed it on his female companion.

_Ah, how quickly 'love' changes,_ Rufus mused to himself.

"Oh, stuff it Biggs. Why would he be telling and showing us all this stuff if he was going to kill us. He already knows who we are, where we live—there is nothing we can say that he doesn't already know," Jessie vented upon her comrade.

"I know.. but I still don't trust him.." Biggs mumbled but the argument had already been won by the woman.

Rufus cleared his throat, switching their attention back onto him. If it turned out that he was wasting his time, someone would have to make it worthwhile. The next photo was pushed forward—one of a possible threat by mere looks. "Barret.. and what is he?"

"The leader of Avalanche."

"So why did he start Avalanche?" Rufus inquired while removing the photo from the table. He glanced over the stern expression the dark skinned man wore.

"He wants there to still be a planet when his daughter grows up. He says the planet is going to die soon because of the mako reactors sucking out the life." Jessie easily responded. Biggs retained his glare which he directed towards the tiled floor while leaning against the back of his chair.

"Ah, good reason." Stupid reason. The man would be easy to control if they seized his daughter. He'd shatter into pieces if they killed the young girl. No. He was too weak to pose a threat. The muscles and tough guy looks were just a cover up.

Rufus scanned over the photos of the average looking citizens until his eyes fell on the impassive face and eerie blue eyes of one man. He pushed the picture forward. "I don't have much information on him."

"Really? He used to be in Soldier. I thought ShinRa would recognize him at once." Jessie peered thoughtfully at the blonde haired man in the photo.

"Soldier?" Rufus flipped through the files, wondering how he could miss such an important detail. "What is his name?"

"Cloud. He's fairly new to Avalanche."

Rufus continued to skip through the papers until a stray picture came loose and fell onto his lap. It showed the same spikey haired man from the photo Jessie was admiring. But the one in his lap showed Cloud with someone else in the picture—a fair looking woman holding up a white flower to Cloud's nose. The look the still figures shared was the same as the way Jessie and Biggs gazed at one another.

Love. How pathetic.

"Who is this?" Rufus placed the new picture on the table while pointing to the auburn haired girl next to the ex-soldier. It bothered him that he didn't have any information on her—that for some reason her name had been kept out of the files.

"Aeris—"

A choking sound came from behind Rufus, but the girl didn't seem to notice.

"—She's not really part of Avalanche, but she takes care of Barret's daughter. Her and Cloud have something going on." Jessie mumbled, sounding awfully close to being jealous.

Rufus resisted the urge to look behind him. He knew the distressed noise had come from Reno. What—had he choked on one of his shirt buttons that he otherwise had no idea how to use? The moron. Rufus' mind tracked back onto his original train of thought. His eyes burned into the photograph of Cloud. Men who climbed the ranks all the way to Soldier were suppose to exceptionally strong and determined. "You said Cloud is new to Avalanche, when you said that I got the feeling that he really isn't a part of the team."

"Well.. he's sort of a mercenary. After our last mission he said he was leaving, but Tifa convinced him to stay." Jessie answered.

"So, if I sent someone to escort him here. How do you think he will react?" Rufus quietly asked while the wheels turned in his mind. Cloud held no current loyalties. He was a careless drifter, moving from job to job and only concerned with his own affairs. The spiky haired man was the wild card, and perhaps the ace to complete his royal flush. But which tactic would be the right string to pull Cloud into the card game.

"I don't know. We don't know much about him.."

That confirmed Rufus' assumptions about the mercenary. Rufus returned his gaze to the couple. He smiled—but not in kindness. Darkness crept ominously into his eyes and destroyed the innocence he once wore to deceive his audience. "Thank you. The information has been very helpful."

Rufus would choose love. That's how he would lure Cloud to him. He would manipulate the imaginary connection between Cloud and Aeris and then cut it as he pleased. Taking the photo, Rufus stood from the table and headed for the door. His fingertips tingled with a new excitement as Rufus turned and fixed his wicked smile on the redheaded Turk.

Reno's brow rose at the peculiar expression directed at him. It only grew to a more dangerous degree—a murderous glare that was sharp and slowly cutting through Reno's impassive demeanor. It was like the darkness moved with Rufus, engulfing Reno and strangling the Turk until he stared into the only light—a pair of brilliant blue eyes brimming with malice and cold laughter.

Rufus paused when passing Reno at the exit. His eyes released the redhead from their ethereal grasp. "Kill her."

Reno nearly jumped at the words, but he managed to retain a casual expression and merely glanced at the president. Rufus smiled and let his fingers grip at Reno's sleeve jacket. The rough fabric was a pleasant feeling to his numb fingertips. "Wait until he breaks, then kill him too."

Rufus let go of Reno's jacket and walked out of the room. His body went for the double-sided window that would allow him to see inside the white cell. The shot was silent, but Rufus could see the full extension of Reno's arm and his gloved hand that firmly held the recently fired gun. The victim laid twisted on the floor, a dark puddle of red forming around her head. The crimson lake against the snow-white tiles was an image to adore, as was the smug, triumphed smirk on Reno's lips. The other man in the room had a fine blood spray across his horrified face. His eyes, wide and crazed, were staring down at his 'love' that had once sat alive right next to him. In the matter of seconds she had gone from smiling happily to no longer being able to feel the cold floor that her body heavily fell against. She didn't know she died, she never saw it coming, and she would never know why she had been killed.

Biggs slowly moved out of his chair and sank to his knees besides his lost companion. Outside the room Rufus watched the performance. He took pleasure in viewing every wave of pain, guilt and anger that crashed through Biggs' body—eroding away his being until all that remained was trembling hands and watering eyes.

"Why?" Rufus spoke the word he could see Biggs mouthing as he cradled Jessie's lifeless body. The thick blood instantly spread to dye his clothes in the fatal color. He sobbed into her matted blonde hair and kissed the side of her slack face. Over and over he repeated an apology she would never hear. How sweet that he was sorry for something he had no power over.

Reno remained posed perfectly in his original place. He was waiting for the right moment to move. Somewhere during the point when Rufus had walked out of the room and to the window, Reno had flipped down his sunglasses to cover his eyes. Rufus could see the cruel smirk painted on his lips, and that was all he need to see to know what madness swirled in the green cat-like eyes. Reno must enjoy his job about as much as Rufus enjoyed watching.

Biggs finally stood, screaming as his wild eyes hone in on the murderer. His voice screamed, it cried, but most of all it called out Rufus' name in vain—but the president heard none of it through the sound-proof walls. The metal table was flipped upside down, and it was soon followed by a second body hitting the floor. Blood rushed over the floor, painting the tiles with deep strokes of death.

Rufus ran his fingers over the smooth glass that separated him from the room—preventing him from dipping his hands into the warm liquid of life. Soon it would be too cold and old to enjoy. Blood was only beautiful when accompanied by the sinful act of violence. The moment was now gone and Rufus no longer cared for the two lovebirds that were killed only to please his sickly twisted fascination with pain.

The door a few feet away opened and Reno stepped out of the room. Rufus pulled his fingers away from the glass while turning to face the Turk. His other hand raised with the photo he had taken from Cloud's file. "I want you to bring me this girl."

The joy Reno had been carrying vanished as anger chiseled into his young face. Rufus pushed the photo against the redhead's chest when the Turk didn't step forward upon hearing the orders. Rufus knew there was something more to Aeris than what he was led to believe. Reno knew whatever that secret was, and even though Rufus was curious, he didn't care who she was. Rufus only wanted her because she held a 'love' with Cloud—the real one that Rufus wanted to meet.

"You do some nice work, Turk."

Reno plucked the photo from Rufus, allowing the president's fingers to press lightly into his shirt a moment before he stepped away. Without so much as a nod, Reno walked down the hall with venomous eyes hidden behind the shadow of his sunglasses.

Rufus smiled, not bothering to turn and watch the other leave. He let his eyes close, caging his blue insanity into the darkness of his mind. "I hope to see more of it soon."

**End Part III**


	5. Part IV

**Game of Power**

_By: Zavijah_

* * *

"_It is one of the worst of errors to suppose that there is any path for safety except that of duty."_

* * *

"_You have your orders." Cool and crisp._

"_You can't be serious, Tseng." Angry and unbelieving._

"_Why can't you just do your job?" A small growl and a glare of black._

"_Have you lost your edge? It was **you** who assigned me to **protect** her. Now you want me to bring her here, into the hands of a madman? Isn't that what we wanted to prevent from happening?"_

"_Reno, since when did you begin to care?"_

"_When did you stop caring?"_

"_Bring her in. Your job depends upon it." A rush of wind and the other was gone._

"_Tseng.."___

* * *

The shadows within the church were always the worst. They cluttered together as a thick mist rolling in from the pits of hell. When the place was fully lit it was beautiful and holy, but when it laid forgotten, abandoned was when the sinister darkness swarmed hungrily over the empty pews and fallen altars. The moonlight that did manage to filter through the thick stained glass windows didn't quite reach the floor because the shadows were too dense.

The darkness was nearly tangible, standing in long black curtains that hid the church walls. It created an unsettling illusion of _no_ walls; as if it was like a thin dark veil that could be pushed aside and reveal an unknown world which would swallow a man alive to be forever lost in the sea of black.

Reno hated that place; both because of his atheist beliefs and his unhealthy fixation with death. But there he was anyway, leaning against one of the invisible walls and completely shrouded in varying layers of shadows. The darkness was so thickly coated around him that he might as well have been choking on it. But instead he was dangerously silent as he watched them—but mainly watched _her_.

How many times had Reno stood there in the past and watched Aeris tend to her garden of night blossoms? She would hum a content tune to her flowers, and Reno would swear that sometimes he heard the plants sing back. But that was when Reno was very tired and on the verge of collapsing from fatigue. This was not one of those moments.

Aeris was kneeling in the dirt, pruning the dead leaves and crumbling them over the ground so they once again became part of the soil. Cloud was standing nearby, leaning against a broken pillar and silently watching the flower girl work. He looked as impassive and cold as always. In a way it reminded Reno of Rufus—uncaring, aloof but always watching and mentally noting down the smallest of details for later examination. Golden blonde hair and masked blue eyes—but in their outward similarities is where Reno found the biggest difference. Rufus' eyes were always glowing with a luring darkness, a mixture of brilliance and madness. However, Cloud's eyes were flat and dead. Cloud was soulless—Rufus may have had a hollow soul, but at least he had one. The only thing that showed life in Cloud was the eerie radiant glow that signified the presence of Mako in the blood.

Reno pulled a beaten pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. He slipped one out of the package and brought it up to his ready lips. A lighter was retrieved from his pant's pockets and Reno paused before he lit his cigarette. Listlessly his green eyes gazed at the metal piece in his hands.

_

* * *

"Reno, you shouldn't smoke." Aeris, the flower girl, turned away from her plants and frowned at her unwanted bodyguard._

_"Whatever." Reno lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply to prove how much her words meant nothing to him._

_"Cigarettes are bad for your health," She stood and brushed away the dirt from her faded jeans—her gardening clothes._

_"So is this mako-poisoned air but I'm not going to stop breathing." He smirked while exhaling the nicotine rich smoke in her direction. Green eyes glowed with his internal laughter, but they faded to a more painful, distant tinge as they met with Aeris dark brown. She looked sad, but not because her feelings were hurt by his words, instead she looked sad for –him-._

_"You have control over what you smoke. Those things will kill you," Aeris eyes never strayed. It made Reno uncomfortable. He didn't like the way her gaze tore through his defenses as if they never existed._

_"I will die one day anyway," The Turk said as he flicked ashes off his cigarette and onto the church floor._

_"Do you want to die?" Aeris finally looked aside as she clasped her hands to the front of her chest._

_Reno shifted against the wall. The question had caught him by surprise. Sure, he led a destructive lifestyle, not caring what happened to his body in the process. Sometimes he did find himself wishing he would get shot during a mission or that he would fall asleep and never wake. Yet every morning he woke up and every mission he came out unscathed. Reno felt like his life was meaningless—he drifted from day to day with no purpose. Did he really want to die? "Why do you care?"_

_"I don't like to see people in pain." Aeris whispered before turning her gloomy eyes back onto the Turk._

_Pain? He was in no pain. Reno tried to smirk but instead he frowned. His eyes became dark as they reflected his years of regret. Deep down inside Reno wanted to change who he was. The drugs, the booze, the fights, the cutting, the killing, the meaningless sex—he hated himself so much that he wanted to cry. Where in life had he stumbled off course to wander blindly through the darkness with the stench of blood and ash clinging to his skin?_

_But Reno had hidden that part of himself so well, even to himself. How was Aeris able to make him dwell upon the thoughts he had burned away long ago. How come he felt so dirty when Aeris soulful brown eyes were upon him? What was it about her that made her so special?_

_"Let's make a deal," Aeris heartbreaking smile caught Reno off guard for a second time. The twisting pain in his chest immediately disappeared. "When you are around me, you don't smoke. Okay?"_

_"You don't want to watch me slowly kill myself?" Reno gave a sly smile while stubbing out the cigarette._

_"I want you to be happy Reno."_

_What did she mean?_

_"Whatever."_

_Maybe he wasn't meant to understand the flower girl._

* * *

A bitter smile formed as Reno lit the cigarette between his lips. The action broke the darkness around him, the fire breathing life to his face for a few seconds. He inhaled a lungful of the sweet nicotine. Cloud and Aeris had finally noticed the Turk due to the action—or rather, Cloud had finally realized they were not alone. Aeris knew he was there all along. She always knew. 

Reno exhaled, the smoke escaping his mouth with the slithering motions of a gray snake. The redhead was a corrupted man. He knew well of his power to wither and taint everything around him be it as simple as a puff of smoke. He stood straight and began to make his way towards the staring couple. Cloud pushed away from the pillar and placed himself as an obstacle between the Turk and Aeris.

"Please don't mind him," Aeris voice pleaded softly but went unheard.

As Reno neared, step by step, Cloud narrowed his eyes in a silent threat. Green eyes returned the gestured but accompanied it with a challenging smirk.

"I know you.."

Reno paused at the mercenary's words. A few drags were taken from the cigarette as Reno evaluated the meaning of the statement. He had never dealt with Cloud in the past—hell, he never knew the man existed until the blonde brat had gotten involved with Aeris. Reno had been there the very first day when Cloud and fallen through the roof into the middle of Aeris' flowers. Yes, Reno had been watching from the shadows in his usual spot against the wall. He was always watching from afar. But where did Cloud know him from?

".. that suit. You're a Turk." Cloud's voice was dead, devoted of all emotion. It made Reno wonder if the man truly knew what he had said, but at least it answered his question. The blonde brat only knew him by profession.

"So?" Reno snorted in response. He sneered and looked past Cloud's frame to see Aeris still sitting amongst the plants. "He's a strange one, Sis. Mind calling him off before he gets himself hurt?"

"Cloud, it's okay, Reno is ju—"Aeris began to stand but paused when Cloud sliced his arm through the air in anger.

"No. He's a Turk Aeris, you can't trust him." Cloud's hand hovered dangerously close to the hilt of his sword.

Reno planted his feet firmly into the ground at the first signs of a fight. He took one final drag off his cigarette before dropping it to the floor and crushing it beneath his shoe. No one was going to get in the way of him and his target. All Reno had going for him was this mission; he had nothing to lose, but everything to win. Cloud didn't have a chance. "Step aside boy."

The large sword was drawn. The metal was barely visible in the dark church because it matched the hues of the darkness. Reno smirked at his opponent, knowing a battle would never ensue. "I'm here to take her away. It's just not safe here for a young girl like Aeris."

Brown eyes peered inquisitively at Reno. The redhead slowly nodded his head, an action that went unnoticed by Cloud. The flower girl knew what he meant. –_She was in danger_-

"Don't fight here, you'll ruin the flowers!" She burst before making a dash for the backroom of the church. Cloud shot one last glare at the Turk before following after the Ancient.

Reno didn't chase them. Instead he walked over to the small flower bed. The white petals were glowing under the moonlight that streamed in through the hole in the roof. Reno brought his heel down on the nearest blossom and smothered it into the dark soil. He felt like destroying something beautiful at the time. When he lifted his shoe, Reno saw only tatters remained of what had once been a flower.

It bothered Reno to a degree—not the ruined flower, but what Cloud had said. On most occasions Reno was untrustworthy; a cold bloodied killer. But when it came to Aeris, a mysterious girl that was like a sister to him, Reno only wanted her to be safe. He wasn't lying then.

"Dumbass," Reno growled as his eyes flicked towards the back doors. Sometimes Reno was jealous that his guardian job had been taken by Cloud. That lifeless lump, why did Aeris bother with the soulless mercenary? Reno had asked once, Aeris had replied that she wanted to help him remember who he was. That was typical, Aeris always wanting to help everyone but herself.

Slightly stressed, Reno raise his fingers to his lips for a drag—only to realize he had already disposed of his cigarette and only the smell of the toxic substance lingered on his skin. He ran his fingers through his fiery hair to play off the move. Reno then grabbed the cell phone from his waist and dialed in a familiar number.

After the first ring someone picked up, "_Hello?_"

"Do you ever sleep, Tseng?" Reno teased while brushing away dirt from one of the empty pews.

"_Reno? I thought I made it clear that I didn't want to hear from you until you completed your mission._"

"What makes you think I haven't finished already?" Reno laid himself out on the wooden bench with the darkness as a blanket.

"_The fact that I am sitting by the elevator, waiting for you._"

Reno smirked, even though the action went unnoticed to the man he was talking to. "Aw, you were waiting up for me. That's so sweet Tseng."

"_Cut the crap Reno, I'm not in the mood. Why are you calling?_"

"Holyhell Tseng, when are you _ever_ in the mood for _anything_," a sly smile on Reno's behalf. "I only wanted to hear the sound of your voice."

"Tseng?" Reno stilled to listen, afraid he might have lost the connection.

"_Reno, get to the point already._"

"I regret to inform you that I have to abort my current mission and immediately follow my new orders." Reno casually spoke as he bounced his leg off the side of the pew.

"_New orders? Who gave you new orders?_"

"The little voice in my head," Reno purred into the cell phone.

"_..What are you planning, Reno? You've never gone against orders before._"

"Tseng," Reno tsked the name, "I'm not going against orders. Really I am doing exactly what you want me to do."

"_Reno! You –will- bring the girl to ShinRa headquarters._"

"'the girl'? Com'on Tseng, her name is Aeris. You've known her since the day she was born. Stop trying to distance yourself." Reno sat up, brushing bangs from his eyes.

"_I will and so will you if you know what's good for you!_"

"Sorry Tseng, you're break up," Reno lied. "I gotta go. Talk to you later."

"_Re--!_"

Reno ended the call—possibly ending his career as well. He turned off the phone to ensure he received no future calls. There was no way Reno was going to hand over Aeris after years of keeping her safe and making sure her name or picture never got added into a report. Now one slip was going to cost him everything. Who had done the report on Cloud? Reno was sure that Rude wouldn't have slipped the photo of Aeris the file by accident. Tseng never did bother with paperwork. Reno was absolutely positive that he never made the mistake—but there were others in the Turk organization. Who was so stupid to add that one particular photo? Reno would have to find out. That is if he still had a job after the stunt he was going to pull.

Reno stood up in the darkness and slowly swaggered his way out of the desolate church. The outside was really no different than the inside when everything was hidden in the shadows of the night. The Turk knew his way around though. He had followed Aeris tracks many times and they always ended at the same place.

The rushing of water sounded from the background as Reno walked along the beaten dirt path. There was no regret in his steps as he strolled up to the red-tilted roof house. He pushed open the door and silently crept through the dinner room until he came to the small kitchen. The light was on as a woman stood over a sink of dishes. Reno moved towards her like a shadow of death. He loomed up behind the woman, inches from reaching out and grabber her neck. Suddenly the woman spun around to face the Turk.

"Oh!" Her hand flew up to her chest as her breath caught in her throat and her heart appeared to stop beating from a few seconds. Her shock was clear and for that Reno smiled. "Oh!—Reno! I asked you to not do that to me!"

"Sorry. I just couldn't resist." Reno continued to grin, which earned him a strong slap on his side from the flushed woman. Her hands were still wet from the dish water so the soapy liquid was flung about the kitchen as she continued to hit the Turk's arm.

"You're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days!" She fumed before finally settling to just glaring at the red head. "What are you doing sneaking around in the middle of the night scaring the living daylights out of people?"

"Did Aeris come home?" Reno wiped the soap bubbles from his jacket.

"Yes," The woman left her dishes to dry her hands on a nearby towel. Her faded eyes turned onto the Turk with question. "Are you hungry? I could make you something if you are."

Reno shook his head as he glanced outside the kitchen by force of habit. The relationship between him and Aeris' adopted mother had not always been on friendly terms. In truth, the woman was not supposed to know he even exist, but Reno had a habit of bending the rules for his own benefit. At first Aeris would tell her mother that Reno was a stalker—that did not go over well with the mother. It was only after a few months—in which Reno saved Aeris from muggers, rapists, and the usual riff-raff of the slums—that Aeris mother began to tolerate Reno. In short, she didn't threaten his life anymore. A few weeks later Reno had been sitting on the fence, boredly tossing stones into the stream when the woman came out and asked Reno if he wanted to come in for dinner.

Since he was hungry at the time, Reno accepted but let the woman taste test everything to prove it was not poison. After eating an awkwardly silent dinner, the mother thanked Reno while Aeris beamed about her bodyguard. Reno felt accepted and he liked that feeling. From then on the woman, learned to be Theresa, made sure to say goodbye to both Aeris and Reno. She would make extra food incase he wanted to join them for a meal. She treated him like a son, which included both teasing and scolding him. One time she had yelled at Reno because he wasn't wearing any gloves or hat on one particularly cold winter's day.

Reno liked being cared for. He clung to that feeling as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. There was no way that he was going to lose that woman's trust because of his sense of duty. Being a Turk was the reason he felt so dead all the time. He killed and murdered people that he knew once in his past, other times they were complete strangers. In the end they were the same lifeless bodies lying in the dark alleyways. Their dim, foggy eyes haunted his dreams every night—then during his waking hours. Reno had to kill them, only then after he had killed them _again_ did he fell at ease. Over and over he killed in order to remain sane. It developed into a blood lust with a mixture of alcohol and simple pleasures. Reno was a monster, a living breathing monster that lurked the shadows beneath children's beds—and to have someone actually _like_ and _care_ for him—**_him_**! A cold bloodied killer. How was it possible to accept him when he reeked of aged blood and cigarettes?

But in the end Reno didn't want to know why Aeris and her mother cared for him. The fact that they _did_ care was all that Reno needed to make it through each day without resorting to more dangerous means of comfort; such as injecting his arm with psychotics, or slicing open his skin just to prove to himself that he was alive.

He was not going to hand over the Ancient girl to Rufus. These people were _his_. They were his light in the darkness. So in a way Reno was possessive over the individuals. It didn't matter who they were, only that Reno liked the attention he received. It was a healthier drug to him to which he was addicted and not willing to share. Rufus was not going to take it.

"Reno, is something wrong?" Genuine concern. Theresa was the mother Reno never had.

"No—well, yes." Reno forced his thoughts out of his mind so he could concentrate on his mission. "Where is Cloud?"

"I sent him away," Theresa responded, not bothering to hide her distaste for the blonde man who claimed to be formerly of Soldier.

"I assume Aeris is up in her room?" Reno glanced again at the dining room to assure they were alone.

"Of course," Hands were once again plunged into the warm water of the sink.

"I have to take her away from her." Reno watched as the woman visibly tensed but did not turn around.

"Why?" Sadness echoed in her voice.

"They're looking for her. I need to take Aeris somewhere safe until things change." Reno's fingers twitched. He wanted a smoke.

"For.. h-how long are you going to take her. When can she come back home?" Theresa's wet hands were gripping the sink's metal edge.

"I don't know, but you have to trust me. I will keep her safe." Reno tried to smile to reassure the woman but it turned into a smug smirk instead. Reno wasn't any good at being nice.

"I do trust you," the woman stated before letting out a heavy breath. Her back was still directed at the Turk, but he knew she was crying. "Be careful, Reno."

"You know the drill.." Reno trailed off, his green eyes keenly focused on the woman.

"Yeah yeah—I never saw you, never talked to you.."

Reno ducked out of the kitchen and drifted through the half-lit dining room until his foot landed on the first stair that would lead to the second floor. He hoped Aeris would take the news as well as her mother. She really had no choice.

**End Chapter.**

_I know that I haven't update in a while. All I can say is that school has been keeping me busy, and that I have become more interesting in role-playing than working on my stories. This chapter has actually been done for a couple of weeks, I just was too lazy to type it all up. Nothing on Rufus, but... I did state at the beginning that this story doesn't really have direction. _


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